


Process Stories

by grimorie



Category: Firefly, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Friendship, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/pseuds/grimorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's life has gone down the dumps since the Unification War and then he wakes up trapped in a jail cell with the last person he liked to see in the whole 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Process Stories

**Author's Note:**

> A Firefly/Person of Interest crossover fusion based on this prompt [here](http://isagrimorie.tumblr.com/post/115233897491/i-cant-believe-im-sitting-in-space-jail-with)

John groaned, his head throbbed and felt like someone took a crowbar to it.

“In all the jail cells, in all the ‘verse,” a familiar voice drawled, “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a space jail with _you_.”

John jerked up, almost immediately the stabbing pain from the back of his head climbed up to his temple. He winced at the pain and raised a hand to his head. His eye sight was a little blurry and he wondered if he had a concussion. The figure in front of him focused into a person and he glared. “Root.”

“John,” the woman across from him mimicked his tone. John remembered his last encounter with the woman vividly. It involved an assassination, a kidnapping, and Root's escape into the Black before John could get a hold of her.

The woman was a cheat, a liar, and a killer all rolled into one. She had no allegiance to anyone but herself. Every time they crossed paths she brought nothing but mayhem. One would think the sky was big enough for them never to meet again. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Working on my tan,” Root answered. She offered him a beatific smile and then batted her lashes at him.

He should have known he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of her. He looked around and they were in a jail cell— not just any kind of jail cell, it was the kind of jail cell he’d find in a Core planet not in a back world planet out here in the Rim. The clean smooth lines and the only thing missing would be a soldier in gray watching them in disdain.

He focused on Root and noted the way she was slouching against her side of the cell. “Thought you could hack your way out of any system?”

“I can,” the hacker answered, she tried to mask it but John heard the chagrin in her voice.

“But you couldn’t,” John said in understanding.

“'Bout time you two woke up.”

John startled at the sound of another voice, he didn’t even sense someone enter the hall. He did notice the way Root’s face lit up. Anything or anyone that inspired Root's interest was a cause of worry for John.

“Sheriff!” Root said with a grin.

"It’s _Marshal_.”

John turned just in time to see the scowl on the Marshal’s face. She was smaller than he expected, and instead of the Alliance's customary gray the Marshal wore a dark coat and even darker shirt and pants. In a flash he remembered what happened. He accepted a job with Badger— someone he shouldn’t have been doing business with but supplies and money were running low and he owed Marconi.

He should have known Badger would lead him to trouble, even Elias didn’t trust the weasel. The job led him to the edges of the Rim and into Whittier, it was the least known planets in the Rim because mostly the populace of the Rim kept to themselves.

The moment he landed on Whittier, John had a disconcerting feeling because it didn't _feel_ like any Rim planet he'd been to. It had the frontier aspect except it almost felt like it was Ariel. 'Cept less buildings up top.

Supposed to be a simple smuggling job but a fight brewed and word was the planet was run by a Marshal; she was no Alliance Marshal but she was the closest to on and in John's book and John would rather _not_ run into a Fed so John tried to diffuse the situation when the law arrived.

Somehow, someone snuck up behind him and knocked his brain pan. Next thing he woke up to Root's smug mug. There weren't a lot of people who could sneak up on John.

“You’ve had training,” he told the Marshal.

“And you,” the Marshal replied she looked him with hard eyes, “used to be part of the Alliance, right? Turned around and used your training for the Browncoats. You're a ruttin' turncoat.”

She all but spat the word.

John forced himself not to stir. He didn’t have an ident card on him but he was sure the Marshal had other methods of identifying him.

_Guai_. Nothing added up about Whittier, it was a planet out here on the Rim but it has Core prison technology and an Alliance trained operator turned cop. He was humped if the Marshal sent a wave through the Cortex.

Behind him Root sniggered.

“I won’t be laughin’ if I were you _Veronica_ ,” the Marshal said with special relish, “It’s not hard to figure you’re on the dodge too, I send up a wave I’m sure the feds aren’t just going to pick up Mr. 'Riley' and leave you here to pickle.”

“I told you Marshal, I’m just a—”

“Killer for hire,” the Marshal interrupted.

“I’ve said, it was self-defense,” Root’s voice was waspish, and it was John’s turn to be amused.

The Marshal raised a Capture, the paper thin Capture unrolled to show a video of Root entering the room with a gun aimed at an old man’s head, except at the last second coiling from the shadows someone struck her from behind.

Incapacitating from behind seemed to be the Marshal’s favorite gambit.

“Marshal,” Root’s voice turned sultry, much to John’s uncomfort. “if you wanted to lay hands on me all you need do is ask.”

The Marshal rolled the Capture and returned it to her dark coat, she didn’t respond to Root except to narrow her eyes at her.

“Up to me, I’d have shot you both then I’d send up a gorram wave and have you picked and out of my hair,” the Marshal said.

Understanding dawned hitting him like a herd of bison, “But its not up to you.”

The door hissed open.

“It’s very fortunate,” A man in an impeccable suit with a very noticeable limp entered the hall. It was the man from the video, the man Root was going to kill. He drew level with the Marshal. “That Marshal Shaw was under strict orders to bring you both in unharmed.”

“You knew we were coming.” Root moved forward, as much as she could afford to without getting electrocuted. She sounded intrigued, "How? No one can track my movements. I made sure of that, my system made sure of that."

Root was many things and one thing she was, was a damned good hacker. John watched Root narrow her eyes at the man and then to Marshal Shaw.

“Indeed, Miss Groves,” Root went perfectly still like a coiled snake about to strike. Groves, so that was her name. “We knew you and Mr. Reese were coming.”

“My name is Root,” Root bit out at the same time John said:

“That’s not my name.”

“Isn’t it, Mr. Reese?" the man turned to look at him and John narrowed his eyes at him. "I know you prefer it more than ‘Riley’.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

The corner of the man’s lips quirked up, “On the contrary Mr. Reese, I know _everything_ about you and you too, Miss—”

“Root,” Marshal Shaw interjected before the man could finish.

“Root,” the man said, accepting the correction. “I’m known in this planet as Harold Wren.”

“You’re the governor,” John said, making the connection. Of course he was, its the only reason why the Marshal of Whittier would follow his orders. Beside him Root said: “You figured it out, bless.”

Just because he was looking, he saw the Marshal smirk. John barely kept from rolling his eyes.

Harold Wren continued with a nod, “But you can call me Harold Finch.”

John stared at Harold Wren— Finch, whoever he was then shifted to the Marshal, Marshal Shaw cut her eyes from them to Finch and frowned.

“Why are we here, Finch?”

“The universe has changed,” Wren — Finch began, it sounded like a spiel. “There's an invisible struggle going on and most of the people who know what's happening are dead. You see the world is about to become a whole lot stranger."

“What, stranger than Reavers and secret government conspiracies?” Root said in a sarcastic tone as she moved forward.

“Perhaps infinitely more so and that being said,” Harold gestured at them but it was the Marshal who spoke:

“He wants you to work for him.”

“Huh.” That took a turn. 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Guai_ \- Hell


End file.
